[Chapter, 10. Restless Night]
"I'm not really tired, but I need to... let's call it rest."
He moved towards her, his hand covering his mouth in a gesture of secrecy that was absurd in the empty apartment. He whispered something, his breath warm against her ear. Her canine face took on a slightly different shade, a subtle blush that was almost lost in the dim light of the kitchen. He paused for a moment, then moved past her, leaving her standing there, a flicker of something unreadable in her amber eyes.
He slipped into the bedroom, the door swinging shut behind him. He could feel her gaze on him, a palpable presence that was both comforting and intimidating. He crawled into bed, the sheets a familiar comfort in this strange new world. He waited for her, a sense of anticipation building within him, a primal hum of excitement.
Iris entered the bedroom, her movements silent and fluid. She dropped the towel, her naked form a silhouette against the moonlight streaming through the window. She was a predator, a creature of myth and magic, and she was about to share his bed. He could feel a strange mix of emotions: pride, desire, and a deep, primal fear that was both thrilling and terrifying.
He was playing with fire, and he knew it. She slid under the covers, her fur a strange, yet pleasant sensation against his skin. She turned to him, her amber eyes glowing in the darkness, her breath a soft, warm puff against his cheek.
"Is this acceptable, Searanox?"
she asked, her voice a low, purring whisper, a question that hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.
Searanox nodded, his throat tight, words catching somewhere behind his teeth. Iris's clawed hand found his chest, the sharp tips just barely pricking his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. It was a touch that spoke of intimacy and threat in equal measure. Then she shifted, pressing her body against his, her fur a strange warmth against his own skin. A soft bite landed on his shoulder—not painful, just enough to make him flinch, a playful nip that sent a jolt through his nervous system.
She settled then, her head resting on his chest. He could feel her heartbeat against his ribs, a steady rhythm that was both a comfort and a reminder of the raw power contained in this form he had brought into being. His arms wrapped around her of their own accord, possessiveness rising like a tide in his chest. She was his—creation, protector, and now... this. The thought was a heady mix of exhilaration and danger. He closed his eyes, listening to the steady thump-thump of her heart, a strange lullaby in this new world of blood and leveling.
He was no longer alone. He was a Progenitor, and this was his prize.
Sleep didn't come easily though, even with the warm softness of her fur against him or the occasional nuzzle that sent another shiver through his body. The night was still young, but he knew dawn would bring more—more challenges, more threats, more opportunities to grow stronger. But here, now, in this small apartment with this creature of myth and magic, there was a moment of peace. A fragile truce in a world spiraling into chaos.
Sleep wouldn't come, despite the bone-deep exhaustion that weighted his limbs. His mind raced, chasing fragments of thought through the darkness. Iris shifted against him, her fur a warm, living blanket against his skin, her steady breath a soft rhythm in the quiet room. He closed his eyes, but the red of the barn, the coppery tang of blood, and the relentless scroll of green notification text burned behind his eyelids. He was a predator now, a being of power and purpose, but in this moment, lying here, he felt the weight of it all, the enormity of the change that had been thrust upon him.
`At least some things never change,′ he thought, a wry, humorless smile touching his lips. `Magical powers, a new race, and a soft cuddle buddy. In the end, nothing changed.′
He raised his hand, a gesture as natural as breathing. The air above the bed shimmered, a brief distortion in the dim light, before the drone materialized, a silent, metallic sphere hovering in place. It was a perfect, seamless orb, its surface a matte black that seemed to absorb the faint moonlight filtering through the window. A single, blue lens glowed softly from its center, a cold, artificial eye in the warmth of the room.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
It hung there, a silent question, a tool of destruction waiting for its purpose. He looked up at it, a detached sense of command settling over him.
`Go scram. Kill every animal you come across.′
The thought was a command, a direct injection of will into the construct.
The drone responded instantly, a sudden, silent burst of speed that carried it towards the bedroom window. It didn't open the window. It didn't hesitate. It passed through the glass as if it were water, the pane shattered on impact. The sound of breaking glass, echoed through the room as the shards fell to the ground. But it was gone as quickly as it came.
The sound, however stirred Iris. She mumbled something in her sleep, a soft, unintelligible murmur, and nuzzled herself closer against him, her head burrowing into the crook of his shoulder. Her warmth was a stark contrast to the cold, efficient killing machine he had just dispatched.
`Well,′ He thought, a flicker of grim amusement cutting through the exhaustion, `at least that fixes the problem with opening the window for it all the time.′
His mind shifted, falling back into the familiar patterns of analysis and calculation. It was the only thing that made sense in this new, brutal reality.
`I have 120 Tech-points. Summoning costs me 5, and the upkeep is 3 Tech-points a minute. I regenerate 2 Tech-points a minute, so it should give me almost two hours of Drone time before I need to charge up for an hour.′
The numbers were a comfort, a tangible measure of his power and a blueprint for the grinding that lay ahead. He closed his eyes, the scent of Iris's fur and the faint, lingering taste of raw meat a strange, primal lullaby. Sleep was a distant shore, but he was a long way from landing.
He reached for the small notebook on the nightstand, its pages crinkled from repeated use. In the dim moonlight filtering through the window, he traced the columns of experience requirements he had meticulously recorded during the bloodbath at the farm.
`Level 1: 100 experience. Level 2: 160. Level 3: 540. Level 4: 1,280. Level 5: 2,500. But what's the pattern...′
His fingers moved across the page, scratching calculations in the margins. Numbers and formulas blurred together in the quiet darkness, the scratch of his pen the only sound besides Iris's steady breathing. An hour passed, marked only by the shifting shadows on the ceiling and the growing pile of crumpled calculations at his side.
He found it, the formula that governed their ascension: 20 × level3.
`There it is. But what good is this knowledge? The experience trickle has slowed to a crawl—one-hundred-thirty experience in an entire hour. My stats increase by one each level, except for Will and Intelligence, which jump by two. At this rate, just two more levels and my Will should hit the threshold where my Tech-point regeneration matches the consumption. Then I can maintain a drone indefinitely.′
A predatory smile touched his lips in the darkness, the numbers on the page promising a future of endless power. That was when Iris shifted beside him, her head lifting from his chest, her amber eyes cutting through the shadows like twin stars.
"You are thinking very loudly, Searanox."
her voice was a low rumble, a purr that vibrated through his chest.
"Would you like me to help you relax?"
The question hung in the air, a subtle invitation that was both tempting and dangerous. He looked at her, her features a mix of human and wolf, this mystical creature, offering him a release from the tension that had been building within him. He could feel the heat rising, a mix of desire and caution. He was a predator, and so was she. He reached out, his hand gently stroking her fur, the soft, silky texture a strange, yet pleasant sensation.
"I am... not sure that would be wise, Iris."
he said, his voice a low, steady rumble. Iris's ears twitched, a flicker of something unreadable in her amber eyes.
"Searanox. I am your servant, your shield, your sword. But I am also a living, breathing being, with desires and needs of my own."
He awoke to the dim, grey light of dawn filtering through the blinds. The city was still quiet, the sounds of the morning rush not yet begun. Iris was still asleep, her head on his chest, her breathing a soft, steady rhythm. He watched her for a moment, a strange mix of emotions churning within him. She was beautiful, a creature of his preference, and she was his. He felt a surge of possessiveness, a primal urge to protect her, to keep her safe from the dangers of this new world.
He gently slipped out of bed, trying not to wake her. He walked to the kitchen, the floorboards creaking softly under his feet. He needed to think, to plan. The Mana Infusion was less then a week away, and he was still woefully unprepared. He had a new set to complete, a new power to master.
